


Mirror's Image

by iWantSushi



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot, parties suck so lets bang on the bathroom floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 06:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iWantSushi/pseuds/iWantSushi
Summary: Youngjae runs into Daehyun at a party, but it seems his ex isn't quite willing to let him go this time.





	Mirror's Image

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillkeepitlow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillkeepitlow/gifts).



inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKVQUX_IpN0)

 

 

               His drink tastes like vomit.

                It’s a Friday night, the music is too loud, and his friends are nowhere to be found. Youngjae has fallen from a state of boredom to extreme boredom, hints of disdain framing his eyes as he tilts his head to the side, avoiding the drunken lips of a man who has him pinned against a wall under the impulsive promise of _a good time_. Lust drips from his tongue, tainting the air with every breath he exhales, the leer in his eyes and the stench of sweat that surrounds them enough to drain away the remainder of Youngjae’s patience.

                Youngjae is, to say the very least, _incredibly_ unimpressed.

                _He’s saying something_ , Youngjae is sure this man is saying something, or at least _trying_ to say something. But he’s far too drunk to adequately string together his words, and at this point, Youngjae is far too sober to listen to them any longer.

                He’s had enough.

                Youngjae tosses what’s left of the vomit in his cup at his captor and slips from his hold within a second. He barely blinks as a vulgar screech reaches his ears, far more invested in attempting to rid his skin of the man’s filthy breath.

                Shoulders bump into him as he brushes through the crowd, the heavy bass of the music vibrating the surface beneath his feet, thudding against his skull with a stumbling weight. Youngjae grimaces when a girl suddenly collapses into his arms, her bleached hair dancing across her shoulders as laughter spills from her lips, her eyes unfocused and smile whispering of gilded ruin. Another girl sweeps her away, an apology barely audible over the pounding music surrounding them, and Youngjae barely spares them another glance as he quickly weaves his way through the throng of dancing bodies and wandering hands.   

                It’s been months since Youngjae’s last been to one of these things, and he’s beginning to remember why he’s avoided them for so long. He doesn’t belong in a place like this, and Youngjae knows it. At this point, he isn’t quite sure what he’s trying to prove.

                Youngjae steals a mint from a corner table as he passes into a hallway, plopping it into his mouth as he heads to another room. His friends are still nowhere to be seen, Youngjae having lost them somewhere in between the obnoxious flirt and the extremely overbearing beat of the stereos, bouncing across the walls with enough distortion to shake his skull – _god,_ Youngjae thinks, _this music is too damn loud._

                Youngjae twists the mint on his tongue as he enters what he assumes is a lesser living room, moving to rest against the wall as he observes the figures around him. He can feel the surface rumbling against his back with every pump of the music, the taste of mint sending a refreshing chill throughout his system. There are less people in here, most of the crowd sitting around a small table in the corner, invested in what appears to be a game of poker. The air that surrounds them is consumed by vapor and low laughter, the dimmed room quickly beginning to feel smaller and smaller the longer Youngjae stays in it.

                _I should leave,_ Youngjae thinks as soon as the mint dissolves, replaced instead with a taste he’d rather not revisit. He turns around without thinking, intending to leave the corridor and this _awful_ party, only to run right into the very last face he wanted to see at a time like this.

                _Jung Daehyun._

Youngjae curses beneath his breath.

                Daehyun’s eyes are just as surprised as his, but they quickly morph into intrigue, and then amusement.

 _“Youngjae,”_ Daehyun greets him with a slight quirk of his brow, a vape-pen dangling between his fingertips. “Didn’t expect to run into you here…” His breath has a pungent sweetness to it, a familiar scent that brings a scowl to Youngjae’s face.

                Youngjae doesn’t say anything, merely staring back at Daehyun as his ex takes a hit from his pen, the vapor that escapes his lips disappearing just as quickly as it came. Hints of a smile linger on Daehyun’s expression as he pulls the pen away, the tinge in his eyes conveying the words he _doesn’t_ say.

                _(You’re leaving?)_

Youngjae’s heart wavers.

_(How boring.)_

                His fingers curl together as he avoids Daehyun’s knowing smile, eyes narrowing into a slight glare that only receives a lazy stare back. Youngjae forces out a scoff, brushing past Daehyun’s shoulder as he rushes down the hall.

                _He’s always like this._ Daehyun always had a way of stripping Youngjae bare with just one look. It’s almost as if Daehyun _knows_ what Youngjae is thinking before Youngjae himself ever does. Youngjae hates it, hates _Daehyun_ for always making him feel this way, so small, so _vulnerable._

_I hate you._

Daehyun’s eyes held a depth that always pulled Youngjae in. Youngjae recalls how easily he had fallen for that little smirk of his, a smirk that held no secrets, only whispers of desire that sought out naïve lips like his. Everything Daehyun did smelled of ashes, his sheets a place of intoxication for Youngjae’s thoughts, his touch a release from everything Youngjae’s ever held close.

                _(No, you don’t.)_

Youngjae stops, fists clenched by his sides as he stands in the middle of the hall.

                _I hate you._

He remembers the scent of smoke, the warm breaths that settled into his skin as he fell deeper and deeper for someone he could never have. Careful fingers brushing through his hair, masking lies with affection, words sweet against his ear but sour in taste.

                _(No, you don’t.)_

 _Daehyun_ …his name alone is enough to bring shivers down Youngjae’s spine, reminiscent of the ephemeral feeling of ecstasy that chased every high.

                _I hate you._

He craves him.

_(No—)_

Youngjae glances over his shoulder, a part of him hoping to see Daehyun waiting for his return. Instead, he sees Daehyun right where he left him, a girl slipping her arms around his waist, their smiles masked through a haze of smoke, and Youngjae quickly looks away.

                He tries to ignore the way his heart aches.

                _Forget it._ Youngjae grimaces, feeling his stomach stirring within him, shifting in a way that sucks away his breath while dread begins to stifle his chest. He hurries off, finding the closest bathroom with a hand clasped over his mouth, unwilling to let this break him yet unable to push those images away.

                The door shuts and the music outside is submerged into a low and thudding hum, faint in its obscurity. Youngjae collapses forward, fingers curling against the counter as he stares blankly down at the porcelain sink. It’s only in the silence of the bathroom that Youngjae realizes how fast his heart is beating, how _suffocated_ he truly feels.

                _Breathe._

Slowly, he comes back down to earth.

                Youngjae gazes up, meeting his own eyes through the mirror.

                _What am I doing here?_

He doesn’t belong here, and he knows it.

                _He_ knows it.

                Youngjae grits his teeth together, nails digging into the counter as his lashes brush with frustration. No matter how many times he tries to forget, to move on, to _push him away,_ Daehyun…Daehyun just _keeps coming back._

He met Daehyun at the beginning of the year when Youngjae had incidentally been paired with him for a presentation. Truthfully, Youngjae had always felt a bit of attraction towards Daehyun, and Youngjae didn’t bother to hide his interest as they worked on their project together. It wasn’t until _after_ their presentation had been delivered that Daehyun took him out for dinner. His excuse was that they were celebrating the success of their project, but Daehyun made it clear that his interests lied somewhere beyond their grades when he took Youngjae home and kissed him into the sheets, his touch both delicate and rough, a paradox that conveyed the type of waters Youngjae would have to tread when he accepted Daehyun’s offer to stay for the night.

                Youngjae’s clutch around the counter tightens until his knuckles go white, and he shakes his head, trying his best to filter the memory away with a firm reminder of why they weren’t meant to be. They lasted a little less than a year after Youngjae realized the type of guy Daehyun was, or rather, everything he _wasn't._

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

_(She’s just a friend.)_

                Youngjae turns the faucet on, watching water pour into the sink as he runs his hands underneath. The heat on his cheeks cools to an even temperature as he splashes his face, his heart slowly resuming its natural pace as he listens to the muffled music through the walls of the bathroom. Youngjae turns the sink off and grabs a towel, gently patting his face down and turning to gaze at the glass before him, releasing a deep breath that sweeps away his nerves.

                The door suddenly opens, and Youngjae’s heart stops when he catches Daehyun’s eyes in the mirror.

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

                The door shuts, but neither dare to look away.

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

                Daehyun reaches behind and locks the door.

                The final _click_ breaks the silence, and Youngjae is broken out of his surprise, his glare a piercing sight through the mirror. “What are you doing in here?”

                Daehyun raises an eyebrow at the hostility in Youngjae’s tone before taking a step forward, hands slowly sliding around Youngjae’s hips and turning him around, their faces only inches apart as Daehyun stares down at him. Slowly, he smiles. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

                Youngjae swallows at their proximity. “It looks like you’re overstepping your boundaries.”

                Daehyun lets out a breath of a laugh, and the scent that lingers between them is unmistakable. “We broke those boundaries a long time ago, baby.”

                Youngjae gives him an unimpressed stare. “You’re high,” he states, but his voice hitches in his throat when Daehyun begins to massage his hips, fingers careful but firm, pulling their bodies closer and closer.

                “And you never answer my calls,” Daehyun utters, and Youngjae lets out a scoff.

                “Next time call me while you’re still sober.”

                Daehyun simpers, fingers slipping into Youngjae’s hair and gently tilting his head back. “I’ve been meaning to see you,” he whispers before brushing his lips against Youngjae’s neck, humming at the way Youngjae’s body automatically shivers at his touch. “Been wanting you…”

                Youngjae swallows, trying his best to remain unaffected, but his breath is shaky when he opens his mouth to speak. “Daehyun—” Youngjae grabs onto Daehyun’s forearms for a moment before letting go, heart jumping as Daehyun trails his tongue along his jawline. “Don’t…don’t do this...”

                Daehyun pulls away slightly, meeting Youngjae’s eyes with that look of his, reading right through Youngjae’s empty words and drawing him right back in. “Do what?” Daehyun asks him, his voice just as teasing as his smirk.

                Youngjae bites his lip, turning his head to the side to avoid looking into Daehyun’s eyes, but Daehyun takes that as another invitation, leaning down and nibbling on the skin of Youngjae’s neck, hands slipping beneath his shirt and winding around his waist like he’d done so many times in the past.

                “Why…” Youngjae swallows, barely able to come up with the words himself, “Why did you follow me in here?”

                Daehyun looks at him. “I wanted to talk to you.” His fingers trace little shapes into Youngjae’s skin.

                “Couldn’t wait until I finished?”

                “You left the door unlocked.”

                Youngjae scoffs. “You’re awful.”

                “And you’re hard to talk to.” Daehyun gently holds the side of Youngjae’s face, coaxing him to meet his eyes. “I saw the way you looked at me out there. I know what you want.” He smiles again, and Youngjae rolls his eyes, brushing Daehyun’s hand away.

                “This isn’t going to happen.”

                “And why not?”

                “You’re a big boy, you can figure it out yourself,” Youngjae quips, but he blinks when Daehyun lets out a dry laugh.

                “You always used to do that,” Daehyun says, and Youngjae frowns. “You always used to brush me off, no matter what I asked you.”

                “Because you were always full of shit.”

                Daehyun gives him sharp stare. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

                His tongue tastes sour, and Youngjae swallows. “Why do you think I broke up with you?”

                Daehyun pauses, his grip on Youngjae’s hips loosening for a fraction of a second before he finally pulls away. His stare is unreadable, holding a complexity that Youngjae can’t quite touch. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, his tone uninhibited, as if everything he’s ever spoken in life were lies and this one statement is his only truth. “You left me, but you never told me why.”

                Silence fills the air as Daehyun’s words sink into the walls around them. The bass from the music outside the door reenters the space between them, matching the pounding drum of Youngjae’s own heart.

                “Don’t lie to me,” Youngjae whispers, but he can feel his voice breaking.

                Daehyun’s stare never leaves him. “I’m not.”

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

                Youngjae’s eyes waver as he looks away, fingers shaking as they weakly clutch at the counter behind him. “Liar…you…you _cheated on me…”_

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

Daehyun frowns, confusion evident in his expression. _“What?”_

                Youngjae shakes his head. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

                “But I _don’t.”_

                _(You’re being paranoid.)_

                _Liar,_ Youngjae thinks, _you’re a liar._ “I…I saw you—”

                “Then you saw _wrong_.”

_(Why can’t you ever trust me?)_

                Youngjae bites his lip. “You never cared about me.”

                “I did,” Daehyun tells him. “I still do.”

                _Liar._

Youngjae does not respond, and Daehyun carefully cups his face, eyes searching Youngjae’s, but Youngjae refuses to give in.

                “You know I’d never cheat on you,” Daehyun says, his lips only inches from Youngjae’s.

                _(I love you.)_

                Youngjae gives him a thin smile. “Then why did you?”

                Daehyun shakes his head. “I swear I didn’t.”

Youngjae bites his tongue.

                _(I don’t care about anyone else.)_

When Youngjae doesn’t answer, the confidence in Daehyun’s eyes waver. “You really don’t believe me, do you?” he breathes, and for a moment, Youngjae almost falls for it.

_(She’s just a friend.)_

                “It doesn’t matter,” Youngjae shakily whispers. “I don’t love you anymore.”

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

                Daehyun lets out a low exhale, his breath burning itself into Youngjae’s skin. _“Liar.”_

                The word cuts, but Youngjae doesn’t move. He doesn’t need to.

                They both know the truth.

                Daehyun leans in and seals their lips together, and Youngjae closes his eyes, his heart picking up in his chest as he is taken back to their first night together, to the fire that burned between them, to the sparks that singe their tongues now.

                _It’s tempting,_ Youngjae feels it stirring within him. To give in, to give in to _Daehyun_ and all the ways he’s ever made Youngjae feel. Curiosity. Lust. Love. _Heartbreak._ Daehyun kisses Youngjae like he can give him the sun and the moon, but Youngjae knows within himself that a love with Daehyun is a path of broken glass, capable of reflecting the stars in the sky but failing to capture even their smallest promises.

                _Liar, liar,_ he always _lies._ Youngjae repeats this over and over again in his head, eyes squeezed shut as his hands slowly come up with the intent to push Daehyun away.

                _I hate you. I hate you. I want to hate you._

_Liar. Liar._

_I’m a liar, too._

He can’t hold it in any longer.

Youngjae succumbs to his own desires with a soft whimper, fingers threading themselves into Daehyun’s hair as he pulls him closer, flush against his body, the rough growl of the bass outside rumbling something deep within him. They draw away for breath, their gasps sharp and filled with the unspoken before Daehyun captures his lips once more, Youngjae’s back meeting the edge of the sink as his fingers twist into Daehyun’s disheveled strands, the intent to finish what they both know will never end exchanged with every shared breath.

                _Excitement,_ it’s something Youngjae hasn’t felt in quite a while. His heart beats wildly in his chest, fluttering with the same dreamy anticipation, the same blissful ignorance he once felt the first time he found himself under Daehyun’s touch. The tragedy under the gloss in Youngjae’s eyes is that he _misses this,_ misses _Daehyun,_ so much so that even as his mind tells him that this night will end in ashes, his heart and body beg to burn within the fodder of Daehyun’s desperate kisses, to collapse under the flames of lust.

                They were never patient when it came to each other.

                One by one, their clothes fall to the floor, each piece stripping them of their fragile defenses and displaying their shared sins across their chests. The timorous words that linger in Youngjae’s breaths are smothered when Daehyun takes the skin by his heart between his teeth, marking Youngjae as his for the rest of the night, evidence of their addictions, of what they can’t escape.

                Moans slip from Youngjae’s lips as his trepidations do, the feeling of Daehyun’s tongue trailing along his chest pulling him further and further beneath the surface. He grasps at Daehyun’s back, nails sinking into his skin, retracing every little detail of Daehyun’s body, the little scars, the hints of muscle that tense with every sting.

                Youngjae knows Daehyun, and Daehyun knows Youngjae.

                Their hands are just as selfish as their hearts.

                Daehyun touches Youngjae in ways that no one else ever could, Youngjae’s voice heightening in pitch and pleasure as Daehyun hikes him up against the counter. Youngjae explores the places he once called his, Daehyun’s breaths thinning into feverish pants with every little scratch, their eyes locking through the haze above it all.

                _“Daehyun,”_ Youngjae breathes out, eyes lidded with his desire, “just get on with it already.”

                Daehyun holds his gaze but Youngjae only looks away. He tugs at Daehyun’s hands and places them on his bare hips, trembling with a craving for Daehyun’s touch. He wants it, he wants _him,_ but when Daehyun doesn’t move, Youngjae moves him himself, guiding Daehyun’s hands to his backside, moaning at the wonderful contact.

                Daehyun appears lost, or at least trapped in his own world as he stares at Youngjae, and Youngjae lets out a soft sigh of slight agitation. A single whisper for _more_ is enough to wake Daehyun back up, Youngjae gasping out his approval when his former lover grabs his ass and bites his neck. Daehyun leans in, his breath hot against Youngjae’s lips as he kisses him, but there’s something missing, something still unspoken before Youngjae tilts his head, angling him in, roughening their kiss with tongue and teeth, deepening his delusion of an end that will never come.

                Youngjae wraps his legs around Daehyun’s waist, throwing his head back when Daehyun presses against him, their arousals brushing together and sending a shock of pleasure throughout Youngjae’s heated skin. Daehyun trails his lips along the side of Youngjae’s exposed neck, his jawline, ending by his ear, a gentle kiss behind the shell enough to draw a pretty moan from Youngjae’s frayed breath.

                Youngjae closes his eyes, enjoying the heat from Daehyun’s tongue, legs drawing Daehyun closer to his body, pushing, pulling, _begging_ for Daehyun to ruin him. Daehyun can sense it, can feel Youngjae’s desperation as he trembles around him, but beneath the lust in Daehyun’s eyes is a strange sense of passion, a longing for a connection that Youngjae continuously breaks.

                “You still like it when I kiss you here,” Daehyun whispers against his ear, voice searing itself into Youngjae’s skin. “You still love it when I touch you there,” he utters next, accentuating his words through his hands, fingers slipping between Youngjae’s thighs, massaging the tender flesh in a way he knows will drive Youngjae crazy. “You’re still the same…you’re still the same…”

                Youngjae can feel Daehyun’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t dare to return his gaze, his response lost in his throat and replaced with a shaky exhale of pleasure. He doesn’t want to give in, he doesn’t _want_ to talk. _He wants to fall._ Deeper and deeper into this hole he’s dug for himself, further and further before he finally decides to cut their ties apart. He doesn’t care. _He doesn’t care anymore—_

 _“I miss you,”_ Daehyun whispers, his eyes conveying his sentiment, but Youngjae doesn’t see it. He refuses to see it.

                _I don’t,_ he wants to say.

                _Liar._

“Fuck me,” Youngjae demands.

                _He’s a liar._

Daehyun’s gaze wavers. “Youngjae—”

                “Shut up,” Youngjae whispers. _I won’t fall for it again._ “I don’t care. Just _fuck_ me.”

                Their eyes finally meet, Daehyun’s a pool of longing but Youngjae’s cold, like a river in ice. Neither move nor breathe, the glass between them too thin, too fragile. Youngjae silently wonders if Daehyun, too, can taste the ash in the air.

            Youngjae repeats himself one last time, and Daehyun smothers his heart in his chest and proceeds to do as he’s told. He bites his tongue, turning Youngjae around and bending him over the sink, Youngjae’s eyes catching only a glimpse of the ice in his own stare through the mirror in front of him.

                Youngjae swallows.

                _(Why don’t you ever listen to me?)_

                _Shut up._

                Youngjae props himself up on his forearms, gaze trained on the drain in the center of the sink as Daehyun eases his fingers into him. The feeling brings a shiver down his spine, and Youngjae closes his eyes, biting down on his lip as he tries his best to wash away the sight of Daehyun’s broken stare, the ache in his voice, the _lies_ he always tells. Youngjae’s _tired_ of it. He doesn’t care who he’s with right now, he doesn’t care that he’s sleeping with his ex. Youngjae dumped him _months_ ago, he doesn’t care about him anymore. All he wants is to be _fucked,_ to forget about it all, to forget about the way Daehyun makes his heart race, to feel absolutely _nothing_ for this man but the pleasure he brings.

                He doesn’t mean a thing to Youngjae anymore.

                _(Liar.)_

Daehyun pulls away and Youngjae opens his eyes.

                _“You’re a terrible liar,”_ Daehyun utters, and he pushes his length in, connecting their bodies and prying Youngjae’s senses apart, a sharp cry escaping Youngjae’s lips as pleasure courses through every inch of his body. “To me,” Daehyun whispers as he slowly pulls out, “and to _yourself.”_ He thrusts back in, one hand grasping the corner of the sink, his free arm wrapped tightly around Youngjae’s waist. “But I’ll play your game. I’ll be the man you think I am.”

                Daehyun sets a rough pace, rolling his hips without pause, and Youngjae barely finds his grip on the sink before he’s collapsing over the counter. Youngjae lets out a gasp, unable to deny how good it feels to be fucked like this again, so roughly, so _recklessly._ Memories of their nights together, from the breaths they shared as they made love beneath the sheets to their racing hearts as they touched in the back of a theater delude Youngjae’s mind like a flickering film. It’s what Daehyun always made him become: _careless,_ like they could get away with anything.

                And he almost did.

                “D-Daehyun,” Youngjae chokes out, but whatever he was going to say next disappears as he lets out another cry, barely able to keep his eyes open, tears blurring his vision with pleasure from the intense stimulation, the feeling of Daehyun moving against his walls setting his skin on fire.             

                “ _God,_ I love it when you say my name,” Daehyun says with a smirk, moving to lift Youngjae’s leg, angling his thrusts in a way he knows will take Youngjae’s breath away. “Only you can make it sound so damn sexy.”

                Youngjae swallows, fingers sliding against the smooth surface of the sink as Daehyun props his leg up against the edge. The position, despite its discomfort deepens Daehyun’s thrusts, and it isn’t long before Daehyun is pressing against his prostate, Youngjae’s vision blanking for just a second before the color returns, and he’s staring into the mirror, at a pane of glass, almost blank, almost lifeless.

                “You…” Youngjae manages to say after a few seconds, his eyes never leaving his own through the mirror, “You say that type of shit to every toy you fuck?”

                Daehyun doesn’t miss a beat. “Just you, baby.”

                Youngjae opens his mouth to speak, but Daehyun rolls his hips in a way that renders Youngjae breathless, shaking his core and pulling the word right from his throat.

                _“Liar,”_ Daehyun utters, and finally, Youngjae finds Daehyun’s eyes in the mirror. “That’s what you wanted to say, right?” He lets out a low chuckle, hands moving to spread Youngjae further apart as he draws out the length of his thrusts, Youngjae unable to hold back his moans as Daehyun rocks his world from the inside out.

                Youngjae feels his legs begin to ache, cramping a little at the stretch but unwilling to move, his body enjoying the searing sensations far too much. He finds his own gaze through the mirror once more, catches the unmistakable flush in his cheeks, the moisture in his lashes, the bite marks that litter his neck. Youngjae almost doesn’t recognize himself, the sight of him in such an erotic state so strange yet so… _alluring_. His hair is an absolute mess, strands sticking out here and there, and the sounds that leave his lips are almost embarrassing, but he can’t deny the thrill of it all, the _excitement_ that pumps through his veins as Daehyun pushes and pulls him into high after high.

                Youngjae watches through the mirror as Daehyun leans over, thrusts shallow as he begins to kiss down his back, hungrily at the first, but gradually they dissolve into a gentle shower that conveys his affection, soft, _warm._ Youngjae feels his cheeks begin to heat up, both the sight and sounds of Daehyun worshipping his skin somehow turning him on further, and Youngjae reaches back, fingers curling into Daehyun’s hair and guiding his head to face him.

                “Daehyun,” Youngjae whispers before closing his eyes and capturing Daehyun’s lips with his. He feels Daehyun’s grip on his hips tighten, Youngjae’s own body beginning to truly ache from this position, but he doesn’t care, far too consumed in this kiss, too consumed in _Daehyun_ to break this moment of intimacy. _It’s dangerous,_ Youngjae knows he’s getting too close to the very thing he’s been trying to avoid, but as he tastes Daehyun, breaths mingling and hearts syncing to the same rhythm, he can’t get himself to stop.

                _(I love you.)_

                Slowly, they part. Daehyun’s eyes are filled with the words he wishes he could say, and for a moment, Youngjae wonders if he’s standing on the other side of the mirror.

                _I love you._

                 Within a blink, Youngjae finds himself with his back against the floor, legs draped around Daehyun’s hips and fingers digging desperately into his shoulders as Daehyun roughly reenters him. Youngjae can feel the ground shaking faintly beneath his back, can hear the knocks and the faded music just outside the bathroom door, but it doesn’t matter to him, doesn’t matter now, not while he’s under Daehyun, not while Daehyun fucks him like every breath is their last, not while Daehyun shows him exactly why the two of them could never stay apart.

                “Harder,” Youngjae manages to whisper, his voice hitching from their movements. And Daehyun complies, placing his hands on either side of Youngjae’s head, brows pulling together as he pounds into Youngjae’s heat without any pause or restraint. Youngjae arches upwards, legs shaking helplessly as he releases a sharp cry of Daehyun’s name in between a string of sins. His nails tear at Daehyun’s back, scratching at his scars, engraving his touch into the tanned skin as a reminder of this moment, a reminder of how lost they’ve become. Daehyun leans down and leads a trail of kisses along Youngjae’s collarbone, his neck, his cheek, and Youngjae shakily reaches up, catching Daehyun’s face between his fingers and guiding him further, sealing their lips together in a breathless kiss that sends their hearts into a feverish rush.

                It all becomes too much, too fast, and Youngjae loses himself in a vision of white. His body shakes, skin dancing with sparks before plunging his body into a rocking sea. He gasps when he reaches the surface, heart beating furiously in his chest as reality pools back, and Youngjae collapses against the floor, his breathless pants withering into little whimpers.

                _“Fuck,”_ he hears Daehyun whisper, and Youngjae can barely breathe when he comes, his thrusts sloppy and rough as Daehyun rides out his orgasm, Youngjae’s lower back faintly beginning to ache. He shivers when Daehyun finally pulls out, unable to move or properly see, the dim lighting of the bathroom suddenly becoming too bright and the world too dizzying to fully return to.

                Daehyun wraps his arms around Youngjae’s waist and flips their positions, smiling up at Youngjae before kissing him sweetly, a lazy mess on the ground, their hearts thrumming in their chests as the music outside fills the silence for them.

                Youngjae is the first to pull away, Daehyun’s taste lingering against his tongue in such a way that he begins to become very aware of his position, of the sweat and spit that covers his skin. He begins to feel dirty, _very_ dirty, and he faintly registers the scent of toilet water in the air. Daehyun is giving him one of his little smirks, but Youngjae only rolls his eyes, pushing him away and getting up from the bathroom floor with a slight grimace of distaste.

                “You’re so damn beautiful,” he hears Daehyun say, but Youngjae doesn’t answer, instead focusing on recollecting his clothes, pointedly ignoring the way Daehyun eyes him as he dresses.

                It isn’t until Youngjae is reaching for the door that he feels arms slide around his waist, holding him gently but _pleadingly_. Youngjae doesn’t move when Daehyun leans his chin on his shoulder, doesn’t blink when Daehyun whispers in his ear, _“Come home with me.”_

                For a moment, Youngjae wonders what it would be like to say _yes._ He wonders what it would be like to accept Daehyun’s offer and pretend like it isn’t so hard to be with him, pretend like it doesn’t hurt every time he remembers his lies.  

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

                Youngjae untangles Daehyun’s arms from his waist, fixing his shirt with a small shake of his head. _“You wish.”_ He moves to open the door, but the sound of frustration that escapes Daehyun’s lips causes him to stop.

                “You know this’ll never end,” he hears Daehyun say, but Youngjae does not respond. “What we have between us. It’ll never stop.”

                “There’s nothing between us.”                

                Daehyun lets out a bitter laugh. “Sure, baby. _Whatever_ you say.”

                Youngjae feels his temple ache as he clenches his fists. “You always did this…” he whispers, but his voice is thin and fragile, just waiting to be broken. “You always did this to me…pretended to care about me when really you never gave a _shit_ about my feelings.”

                “I never _pretended,_ Youngjae,” Daehyun refutes, passion in his eyes as he moves to touch Youngjae’s shoulder. “I cared about you with all my damn heart, but you never cared to listen to me.”

 _“Shut up,”_ Youngjae spits as he turns to push Daehyun away, but Daehyun catches his hands, unwilling to let go. “Just _shut up._ You never listened to me _either._ I told you to stop hanging out with them, I told you to stop—”

                “They were my _friends,_ Youngjae. You can’t just expect me to—”

                “Your _friends?”_ Youngjae repeats with an almost painful laugh. “Your friends who constantly talked shit about me, about how boring I was and how much better off you’d be if you just dumped me?” Youngjae lets out a scoff as he attempts to pull out of Daehyun’s grasp. “She was just a _friend_ to you, too. Such a great fucking friend that you ditched me to fuck her at that damn party—”

                “Is _that_ what this is about?” Daehyun questions him in disbelief, and Youngjae continues to struggle out of his hold, but Daehyun doesn’t let him leave, his eyes pleading with Youngjae to look at him. “Youngjae, I never touched her—”

                “But you let her touch _you!”_ Youngjae shouts. “You _knew_ she liked you. You _knew,_ and even if you didn’t, _I_ told you to stay away from her!” Youngjae can feel his breath heightening, memories of the past drawing out that green-eyed monster he dreaded with every fiber of his being. “That wasn’t even the _first_ friend you let get a little too _close_ to you. You always chose your friends over me, you were never serious about me, you were never—”

                “I’m _sorry,_ Youngjae,” Daehyun says, the sincere sorrow in his voice breaking Youngjae’s heart further. “I should have listened to you, I should have—”

                “You’re only saying this now?” Youngjae breathes out, his smile thin.

                Daehyun’s lips part in surprise. “I know I should have said these things sooner, but you know me. You know how hard—”

                Youngjae tears his gaze away. “Save it.”

                “No, Youngjae, _please—”_ Daehyun’s hold is desperate as he grips onto Youngjae’s hands. _“Please,_ just come home with me. I’ll fix this, I’ll fix everything.”

_(This is stupid.)_

_(You’re being paranoid.)_

_(She’s just a friend.)_

_(She’s just a friend.)_

Youngjae lets out a shaky breath.

                _Your tongue always did taste like ashes._

_(I love you.)_

“You’re a terrible liar, Daehyun,” Youngjae whispers.

                Daehyun’s eyes waver, and the smile Youngjae gives him is one full of pain.

                 “It’s over between us.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                _(She’s just a friend.)_

_You’re a terrible liar, Daehyun._

_(I know, baby, but I’d never lie to you.)_

_Oh, I’m sure._

_(Why can't you ever trust me?)_

_It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that I don’t trust her—_

_(You’re being paranoid. I don’t care about anyone else, not in the way I care about you.)_

_Daehyun, I—_

_(I promise you, Youngjae. She’s just a friend.)_

_…Okay. I trust you, Daehyun._

_(Good. And I trust you, too.)_

_(…But have you ever lied to me?)_

_Of course not._

_(Really? And how do I know you’re telling me the truth?)_

_Because I’m a terrible liar, too._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> for teh aesthetic


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